No Other
by faelyn leaf
Summary: My take on the Usagi and Mamoru "A Love Like No Other" one hundred theme challenge.
1. Hair

Theme #3 Hair

"I wish to see you in my chambers, Endymion."

Somehow his Queen always made his name sound like sex personified. It rolled off her tongue and she veritably purred it. He should have been incredibly aroused. Any man would be. Any man should be.

He bowed low to her, and infused his voice with supplication and regret. Endymion had learnt well in time he had spent in the Dark Kingdom, it was the same tone Kunzite often used with her. "I am sorry, my Queen, but there are preparations to be made for Kunzite's next plan, and time is running short."

A lie, but one with just enough truth in it to avoid her ire should he be caught. He had seen what she had made of Jadeite, after all.

Beryl was miffed, but not angered. Luckily. "Very well. You may go then," he was dismissed with a wave of her hand.

"You can't avoid her forever." Kunzite said after they left the throne room.

"No."

"A dangerous game you play with her, our Queen is not used to being denied."

Endymion said nothing, but an image of shinning pigtails flashed in his mind. Nothing, not even the Queen's ruby coloured hair could match the beauty of lush golden tresses warmed by the sun. He simply preferred blondes.


	2. Shipwreck

Theme #43 Shipwreck

It was a pleasant day for Usagi. Birds were chirping, the sun was shining, both her mother and Luna had forgotten the failed test from last week, and she hadn't gotten detention. Not to mention there hadn't been an attack last night, and she'd gotten a full night's sleep. To celebrate, Usagi bought a box (or three) of her _favourite_ snacks on the the way back from school, and was currently sitting in her _favourite_ stool at the arcade, enjoying them with gusto.

Of course, that's when Chiba Mamoru had to walk in. Usagi tried to ignore him as he made a beeline for his favourite stool, the one, sadly, next to her. He ordered his usual disgusting black coffee, and only looked up at her when he saw her eating. He grinned, actually grinned at her.

It made her nervous.

She tried to ignore him as she gobbled down more of her treats, she really did. But what self respecting girl, no _woman_, would put up with the jerk for very long? None, that's who. Especially when he kept looking at her like that.

Usagi decided that something had to be done about it. She swallowed thickly. "Why are you staring at me like that, baka?" she said between mouthfuls.

He shrugged. "Watching you eat is like watching the _Matsu Maru _sink. Horrible to behold, and yet I can't tear my eyes away."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the indignant teen demanded.

"I've heard stories, during famine of course, but I never thought anyone would be so desperate. Obviously, I was wrong." The baka smirked.

Usagi scrunched up her little face in a frown. "Desperate, desperate for what?"

"You're eating _odangos_." At Usagi's confused look, he gave out a long-suffering sigh. "Did you really have to resort to cannibalism, Odango Atama? And to not even acknowledge it –"

"Mamooooooruuuuuu-baaaaaaaka!"

* * *

_I actually spent more time googling Japanese shipwrecks than I did writing this. If anyone knows of a more appropriate ship than the __**Matsu Maru**, please tell me!_


	3. Same Old Song and Dance

"You really don't like her, do you?"

"Who?"

Mamoru feigned confusion, but Motoki knew that his friend wasn't stupid. There was only one 'her' in his best friend's life, after all. "Usagi."

Mamoru just shrugged. "I don't have time to indulge a fourteen year old child who is loud, obnoxious, spoilt –"

"Cheerful and optimistic? I would say she's everything you're not, but you definitely have the obnoxiousness down."

Mamoru rolled his eyes, but otherwise showed no indication that he even heard Motoki.

They continued the walk to the apartment in companionable silence, when Motoki heard Mamoru groan. His friend closed his eyes, and looked like he was bracing himself for ... impact?

"What the hell, Mamoru?"

"Flying Odangos," he said neutrally. "I'm not even safe on the street."

Seconds later Mamoru's behaviour didn't seem so strange as a familiar blonde crashed into him. Usagi's face and hands were firmly pressed against Mamoru's chest, while Mamoru had done his best to steady her. One of his hands was wrapped around her waist, and the other on rested her back to stop her from falling. They looked content, and Mamoru certainly had never held a girl like that before. Motoki smiled wickedly. It was almost cute...

For the fraction of a second it lasted before they jumped apart and insults started to fly.

Motoki rolled his eyes. And people called him dense?


	4. Pen Pals

Theme #69 Pen Pals

The Odango and her new friend – the blonde with the bow – were giggling over something in one of the back booths. It was distracting. It was silly. It was driving. Him. Insane. Mamoru slammed his textbook shut. He wouldn't get any studying done at this rate.

"What's so funny over here that you're keeping me from my homework, Odango?" he demanded as he stalked up to their table.

Usagi took one look at him and laughed so hard she nearly fell out of the booth. Mamoru, feeling slightly harassed, grudgingly pushed her back on it before she fell on the floor. Typically, the ungrateful Odango didn't notice.

"Well baka," Usagi said between giggles, "you see, when Minako-chan here took out her pen, we saw... we saw..." She clamped her hands over her mouth to stop more laughter from coming out.

"Saw what?" he asked suspiciously, already dreading the answer.

"That our pens were exactly the same!"

"So?"

"So, they're pals!"

"Pen-Pals!" the other blonde chirped excitedly.

Mamoru just stared. Nothing could be that ... that ludicrous, could it? Not even for those fluff-brains.

"Get it?" Usagi prompted. "Pen pals?" The Odango looked at her friend and they both burst out in a fresh set of giggles.

He'd had to ask. He'd just had to ask. Why was that again? Did all that sugar she consume finally rot the Odango's brain, and more importantly, was what she had contagious?


	5. Fan Club

Theme #94 Fan Club

"Um, Motoki?"

Motoki ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, Usagi?"

He sounded tired, but Usagi figured that was because the arcade was packed, and he was the only one working. Speaking of which -- "What's with all these girls here today?"

This time Motoki actually sighed. "They found him."

"Huh?"

She'd been trying to ignore the baka today, but when Mamoru groaned something into his hands, she looked at him curiously. "What did you say?"

He looked up from her, and for a second Usagi felt overwhelmed but the intensity of his blue eyes. She swallowed, but thankfully he didn't notice. That was the last thing she needed. "My fanclub, Odango. They found out I come here."

"So, now that our hero's secret hideout has been discovered, what's he going to do?" Motoki joked.

"Commit suicide?" Mamoru answered.

"Why does the baka have a fan club?"

"The 'baka's' right beside you, Odango Atama. You could at least pretend I'm in the room when you talk about me."

"Women seem to think that our dear Mamoru is the perfect male specimen."

"I don't see it."

"I'll have you know Odango that I—"

He was cut off by the look Usagi gave him. She gazed at him intently, as if studying his features. Dark, shiny hair with bangs that just begged to be brushed out of his face, intense blue eyes, full lips, and a perfect patrician nose. Not to mention that hard body that she seemed to crash into five times a day.

Usagi turned bright red, but her voice never wavered when she then turned back to Motoki. "Seriously, onii-chan, why does he have a fan club?"

Mamoru just smiled.


	6. Rain at Midnight

Theme #32 – Rain At Midnight

It was fitting, Mamoru thought, that the day would end in a storm. Sailor Moon had almost lost her friend Naru, and Naru had lost Nephrite. A kidnapping. Death, loss, betrayal, sadness. So much for the little senshi to go through – hell, it had almost too much for him to endure. He barely had the energy to crawl back to his apartment and be ready when Motoki showed up to drag him to a party.

The traffic was light, for Tokyo. They really should have drove, Mamoru thought as he found Motoki leading him through the same park where he had gotten smeared with Nephrite's blood only hours before. At least the steady rainfall would wash away and cleanse the evidence of battle.

Mamoru frowned, and found himself thinking of his favourite little senshi as they walked.

Sailor Moon had become fast friends with Naru, and her friend's suffering became her suffering. The senshi was sweet, gentle, and so, so loving. It didn't surprise him.

That she would cry over a former fallen enemy didn't either.

Despite the fact that Nephrite used her friend to get to her. Despite the fact that the general threatened to expose her identity to the Dark Kingdom.

Mamoru had never thought about what Sailor Moon did when the battle ended and she took off her uniform, but now as he walked through the park with Motoki, he found he couldn't help himself. He imagined who she might really be: beautiful, sweet, caring. She would have a warm, loving home, maybe an older brother who was determined to protect her. A mother who gave her advice, and a doting father who adored her. Mamoru smiled.

She deserved all that and more.

"Did you hear that?"

Mamoru whipped his head and turned to the direction of Motoki's voice. "No. Did you say something?"

"I said I thought I heard something." His friend frowned.

Mamoru cursed. He hadn't been paying attention and allowed themselves to wander close to where the battle had been. Could Zoicite still be lingering, gloating over his former comrade's defeat? "Stay here, Motoki. I'm going to check it out."

He stepped off the path, and strode through the bushes, his hand in his jacket pocket, poised on his rose. What he saw wasn't Zoicite, though.

Sailor Moon sat, huddled against a tree, her arms folded against her chest protectively. She didn't seem to notice the rain, or the damp soil she sat on. Even the brilliant shine of the jewels in her hair seemed to be muted. Her face was buried in her arms, but he knew instinctively that if she looked up, her eyes would be red and puffy, there would be raindrops in her lashes, and fat tear stains on her cheeks.

She could compete with his dream princess for sheer haunting, heartbreaking beauty in that moment.

He almost called out to her, but what would he do? Transform into the dashing rescuer he pretended to be, instead of the disappointing university student he was? Give her some speech about the greater good?

The fact was, she had tried to save the general and failed. Mamoru was nothing if not pragmatic: Sailor Moon was a warrior, she needed to understand the lessons of sacrifice, of loss. It would be good for her. It would prepare her for the eventual inevitability of battle, if it happened to be one of her senshi next time.

Mamoru sighed, his mind was made up. He would do nothing.

"Even heroes cry," Motoki said softly, stunned, as he came up behind Mamoru.

"Yeah, I guess they do." Mamoru shoved his hands into his pocket. "Come on, Motoki," he said finally, ushering his friend away. "I don't think we're supposed to see this."

His friend nodded, and they began the slow, quiet walk back to Mamoru's apartment, the party forgotten. Sailor Moon was the saviour of Tokyo, and the ebony haired man could understand why his best friend would be so disturbed.

But still ... Mamoru glanced behind him. The pitiful sight of the heroine sobbing into her arms, rain plastering her hair to her face, and getting the trails of her pigtails muddy made him wish there was another way for the lesson to be learned. Somehow, the sight made him question his own pragmatism.


End file.
